


Training

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Erotica, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-25
Updated: 2007-06-25
Packaged: 2018-10-27 15:04:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10811403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: A chance encounter three years ago made more of an impression on Pansy and Ron than either anticipated… or wanted to admit.





	Training

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: So many thanks to **kerosinkanister** for the prompt of Ron and Pansy meeting up after Hogwarts, and to **gingerale** for the awesome beta job!!!  


* * *

"Get a move on, Weasley," Moody shouted, pointing at the clock overhead.  "What's the matter with you today?  Got lead in your knickers?"

Ron bit his tongue, knowing that it would be unwise to retort. No matter how much he wanted to tell Moody off, he wanted this training session to be over even more, so he continued running his laps in silence, thankful that there were only two more to go.  

Truth be told, he _was_ dragging this morning.  _But_ , he thought, a grin spreading over his face, _I do have a good excuse_.  His mind wondered back to the raucous hours he had spent with Tonks last night.  They'd started out drinking, commiserating over lost loves and comparing bad break-ups over shots of firewhiskey.  Then, at some point, she'd pounced and straddled him as she proceeded to shove her tongue down his throat.  Ron grinned as he started his final lap around the track, recalling how he had achieved one of his recurring fantasies, nearly ten years in the making, when he had hauled her up and shagged her against the wall before stumbling to her bedroom, with her still wrapped tightly around him, and finishing out the night spread across her bed, watching her hair change color every time she came - _which_ , he thought smugly, _was more times than I bothered counting_.  

_Oh bloody fuck, stop it_ , he thought, knowing that it would not do to become further aroused when he still had another thirty minutes of hand-to-hand training to complete after his laps, before he could shower and head home for the day.  And it wasn't as if he and Tonks would be hooking up again, seeing as she was still on-again, off-again with Lupin. Ron knew from having watched them do this dance for years that it was only a matter of time before their status flipped to on-again.  _And as good as last night was, it still hadn't been as good as..._

"It's about ruddy time," Moody grumbled as Ron passed him coming off the track.  "Get your arse into the training room.  The new rookies are starting today, and the one I've assigned to you is already waiting."

Ron groaned and rolled his eyes.  "It can't be that time again," he mumbled, wiping his brow with a towel.  "Didn't I just train a bloody rookie last month?"

"It's been six months, Weasley. Now, shut it and get busy.  You've already kept her waiting too long as it is."

_Her?_ Ron thought.  _Oh, this could be interesting.  Haven't trained a woman yet_.  "Yeah, yeah.  I'm going," he said to Moody before walking out the door towards the training room.  He took a swig from his water bottle before running his hands through his hair and opening the door.

"Sorry to keep you waiting.  I'm -" he said as he entered the room before promptly dropping the bottle and staring in disbelief, "Oh bloody fuck - _you_?  What the hell are _you_ doing here?"

Standing there staring at him, with a smug smirk on her face, was Pansy Parkinson.

* * * * * * *

"Where the fuck _is_ he?" Pansy muttered to no one, since she was alone in the room.  She looked at her watch, again.  "Moody said he'd be here fifteen minutes ago."  She started pacing, continuing to mutter under her breath.  "What total incompetence.  Maybe I should rethink this whole thing and go back to Gringotts..."

She stopped her tirade when she heard the door opening. _It's about bloody time,_ she grumbled to herself.  Immediately, Pansy pulled herself into her best ‘how dare you keep me waiting' stance - arms crossed under her chest, right hip thrust out, her left foot tapping slightly, and completed by an impatient stare.

However, once the door opened, Pansy had to fight hard to maintain her pose and not gasp when she saw just who it was that she'd been waiting on.  "Sorry to keep you waiting.  I'm -" His voice cut off for a moment when he looked up at her. His mouth fell open, his face etched in a look of total shock.  His brilliant blue eyes met hers, and Pansy had to remind herself to remain calm.  Her lips slipped into her trademark smirk, as if to say ‘I'm so much better than you and don't you forget it.'  

Although when it came to Ron Weasley, Pansy surely wouldn't have meant it.

"Oh bloody fuck - _you_?  What the hell are _you_ doing here?"

She rolled her eyes in classic Pansy-fashion.  "I believe I _work_ here.  And I'm _supposed_ to be training, however, the _idiot_ they've paired me with has decided to keep me waiting for," she glanced at her wristwatch, "fifteen minutes now."

Ron's eyes blazed and his face screwed up in either irritation, or anger, or frustration.  "Excuse me, but I've been training, too, as you can see."  He pointed to his sweaty t-shirt and sweats.  "Whatever," he mumbled, picking up his water bottle.  Pansy watched him stomp around the room as he got their equipment ready, all the while muttering, "Is he fucking _kidding_ me.... putting me with _her_ _..._ old man's finally gone ‘round the bend..."  But Pansy, rather than be offended by his obvious irritation at having been paired with her, chose to focus instead on _watching_ him stomp around.

_Dammit, he's even better looking than he was three years ago_ , she thought, admiring how much he'd changed since she saw him last.  His hair was shorter than it had been, but it was still longish and shaggy, just as she liked it, and still that vibrant dark red.  His chest and arms were more muscular, obviously from all the training required from Aurors, and he more than filled out that tight white t-shirt, which was drenched with his sweat and clinging to him lusciously.  Her eyes traveled down his torso, pausing not too briefly over his particularly _interesting_ crotch. She subconsciously licked her lips, before moving her gaze down onto his long legs.  She was still focused on his strong thighs, encased in those tight sweatpants, when he bent over, and Pansy fought off a moan at the sight of his firm arse as he picked up their protective gear.

He turned to her with an evil grin.  "Hope you're ready."

Pansy felt her nipples tighten and heat flow through her.  "Surely you remember - I'm always ready."

* * * * * 

"I believe I _work_ here.  And I'm _supposed_ to be training, however the _idiot_ they've paired me with has decided to keep me waiting for," Ron glared as Pansy exaggeratedly looked at her watch, "fifteen minutes now."

_Self-righteous bloody bint_.  "Excuse me," he spat at her, pointing to his clothes that were drenched in sweat from the five miles he'd just finished running, "but I've been training, too, as you can see."

He could not _believe_ that Moody had paired him with Pansy Parkinson, of all people.  Moody knew all about her past relationship with Malfoy - no one was admitted into his squadron without a thorough background check - and she and Malfoy had been _engaged_ , for Merlin's sake.  Of course, she hadn't actually _married_ Malfoy, having instead broken things off very publicly when his true allegiances to Voldemort and his duplicity to The Order were exposed, and Moody knew that  _Ron_ was the one who caught Malfoy harboring Marcus Flint and several other Death Eaters - he _had_ to have known it would be a bad idea to put Parkinson with him.  

_How then,_ Ron fumed, _can he expect me to work with her with all that happened in the past?_   

Not that Moody would have any idea that the reason for Ron's reluctance and concern about their past really didn't concern Malfoy or Death Eaters or even the war per se.  That Ron's reluctance was really due to one highly satisfactory _\- no, extremely amazing and bloody fantastic_ \- night, the details of which only two people knew about.

_Damn it all to hell!  Anyone but her - although she looks good._   He continued to glare at her, taking in her skin-tight training outfit, consisting of a low-cut, too-tight white tank top and too short black shorts as she stood there, smirking that infuriating but totally sexy sneer of hers, her lips full and still blood red.  Her arms were crossed under her breasts, making them look even perkier and - _fuck it all_ \- bigger if possible.  And those skimpy shorts made her legs look even longer.  

Despite his every effort to stop it, his face flushed at the memory of what Pansy could do with those lips. Ron felt himself becoming aroused at the memory of those breasts in his mouth and those legs draped over his shoulders and wrapped around his hips.  "Whatever," he muttered, angry at his lack of control. He began preparing their gear, spouting off whatever came to mind concerning Moody and his sanity, all the while working to fight off the attraction that he felt for the haughty bitch facing him.  _Best to pretend she's just another bloke_ , he thought, _and not hold anything back._  

He turned to her, wearing his best ‘bring it on' grin.  "Hope you're ready."

She returned his grin, arching an eyebrow and licking her lips as she replied, "Surely you remember - I'm always ready."

_Holy shit_.  Ron nearly groaned out loud at the insinuation, and without meaning to, his mind returned to that night, three years ago, when he and Pansy Parkinson had drowned their respective sorrows by fucking each other mercilessly - in the bed she'd shared with Malfoy - and how _ready_ and _welcoming_ she had, in fact, been for him time and time again.  "Let's do this," he growled, circling her and quickly knocking her off of her feet.  

Ron grinned as she swore, "Damn you, Weasley," even as he silently cursed the sweats that he was wearing, knowing that she'd be able to see that he was getting hard. So he willed himself, instead, to think of the least arousing thing he could think of.  Unfortunately, while his mind understood that Moody shagging _anyone_ wasn't hot in any way, his body was still reacting to Pansy's movements as they continued their hand-to-hand combat.  

Although Ron was clearly better at this, Pansy was holding her own, and he couldn't help being impressed at her agility.  _Not that you have to question her agility_ , he thought to himself, thinking of the four times they'd shagged that night, starting again almost as soon as the previous fuck was finished, and not only had she matched him stroke for stroke, she had even shown him a thing or two.

And now, here she was before him, sweating and panting, her hair falling in her face underneath the headgear, her tank stuck to her, the outline of her bra visible, beads of sweat dripping down between those amazing breasts... _No damn it!  I cannot do this!_   

"So, Parkinson.  I see you haven't just been sitting on your arse at Gringotts.  Nice to have a challenge from a rookie.  Just don't get too comfortable because I plan on taking you down again."

Her eyes narrowed, and he couldn't quite make out the look she gave him, but to his surprise and consternation, it almost looked like lust.  "Don't bet on it.  I don't intend for you to ever ‘take me down' again, Weasley."  As the dual meaning of those words washed over him, Ron suddenly found himself flat on his back, with Pansy standing above him, chuckling.  "I guess it's true - the bigger they are, the harder they fall."  She held out her hand.

Ron felt his face flushing, that damn blush that he worked so hard to contain creeping up his neck and over his cheeks.  He wasn't sure if he was more upset about being taken down by a rookie or the fact that it was _Pansy Parkinson_ who took him down, all because he couldn't get the memory of her naked and beneath him out of his mind.

"Nice work, Parkinson," he muttered, waving off her hand and getting up on his own.  He tried to ignore the hurt look that flashed across her face, but he knew that he couldn't touch her just now, _or I might just press her against the wall and..._

Ron took a deep breath and turned back to face her.  The smug look was gone, replaced by sadness. "Once more?" Pansy asked, raising her eyes to meet his as she resumed the initial combat stance.

* * * * * 

Pansy only just had time to prepare herself before Ron growled, "Let's do this," and promptly knocked her to the floor.

"Damn you, Weasley," she fumed, getting up and brushing herself off.  He barely gave her time to refocus before he went after her again, only this time, she was ready.  _I'm not like those other inexperienced rookies you usually meet up with, Ron Weasley.  You may have caught me off guard and knocked me down once but never again_.  Pansy knew that being an Auror would be harder, physically, than being a curse-breaker for Gringotts had been, but the goblins were quite adamant that they stay physically fit, and she'd thrived under their strict exercise regimen.  

_Not that Weasley would know what I've been doing_ , Pansy thought bitterly.  They certainly weren't friends at all when they'd left Hogwarts seven years before, but they'd become friendly afterwards, during the second war with You-Know-Who.  Pansy had defected to Potter's side when her own parents were attacked by Dementors, and she had convinced Draco to join her after his parents were killed by Death Eaters who felt the Malfoys were not loyal to the cause.

Pansy had thrown herself into fighting against Voldemort, and she had won the begrudging admiration and eventual friendship of those in The Order, including Ron and Potter and Granger.  And when Draco was caught harboring Death Eaters, all three of them had stood by her side during his trial and sentence to Azkaban, all of them, _but most_ _especially Ron_ , offering support during her very public and very painful split from him.

When Pansy ended any chance of becoming Mrs. Draco Malfoy - the title she'd been primed for as long as she could remember - she'd felt surprising free, as if she'd done what she was meant to do.  But upon returning to the house she shared with him, she had broken down as she began removing her things from the house in order to make a clean break, and in an attempt to get away from it all, she haddisapparated _to_ the Three Broomsticks to get herself good and pissed.

Pansy never expected, however, to find Ron Weasley there as well, on his own mission to get utterly drunk over Granger taking a job in France and telling him that things were over between them.  She also never expected that she would invite him back to her house - to Draco's house - so that they could drown their sorrows without an audience.  And she most certainly never expected that she would end up fucking him continuously for hours, as if her very life depended upon it; sharing the most incredible sexual experience of her life with him, and in the process, ruining it for herself with anyone else.  

She watched him closely as they continued their training, frustration evident on his face, and she wondered if the cause of it was simply because she was holding her own with him or if there was more to it.  She very selfishly hoped that it was the latter, that there was more to his irritation than just his male ego, that he was remembering that night as well.  Over the past three years, Pansy had often wondered if Ron ever thought about her, seeing as they'd not spoken or had any contact since that awkward morning after, because she thought of him more often than she wanted to.  None of her other lovers ever even came close to measuring up with him.  Ron Weasley was the one she envisioned when she was forced to satisfy her needs herself or when she had to suffer through another awful shag.  Nor could she count the times she had awakened from yet another vivid dream of his vibrant red hair and sapphire blue eyes.

"So, Parkinson," he said, interrupting her thoughts, "I see you haven't just been sitting on your arse at Gringotts.  Nice to have a challenge from a rookie.  Just don't get too comfortable because I plan on taking you down again."

_So, he did know where I was and what I've been doing.  Then why the hell didn't he contact me?  Bastard.  Although it's not as if I ever made myself available to him_... Pansy felt that familiar pain of regret, mixed with a desire to put him on his arse not only for his superior attitude and that uncalled for comment about taking her down, but also for unknowingly insinuating himself in her life these past three years and resurfacing with a bloody chip on his shoulder.

She narrowed her eyes, attempting to give him her best ‘eat shit and die' look, and focused intently on his movements, all the while thinking about how gracefully he moved and how much she wanted to sit atop him, to lean back on those strong thighs, and ride him wildly.  _Stop it, Pansy!_ she scolded herself.  _Keep your mind focused on the task at hand._  "Don't bet on it.  I don't intend for you to ever ‘take me down' again, Weasley."  

Almost immediately she found a pattern in his movements, saw a flash in his eyes, and she took the advantage he gave her by making a half-turn before sweeping her leg behind his knees and knocking him flat on his back. 

Ron was blushing, and Pansy couldn't resist grinning, mostly from the adrenaline rushing through her.  "I guess it's true - the bigger they are, the harder they fall," she laughed before extending a hand to help him up, which he promptly waved off.  

"Nice work, Parkinson," he mumbled as he stood, and once again, the pain of regret washed over her.  She fought back the urge to scream aloud from her frustration - _oh no, Pansy, do not fucking fall apart, you weak idiot_ \- and shook her head.  No wonder she'd stayed away from him all these years; it was bloody impossible for her to concentrate with him this close to her.  _I'm going to have to request a new partner_ , she thought, _but I will **not** lose my composure in front of him._

Pansy squared her shoulders.  "Once more?" she asked, her eyes meeting his.

She was taken aback at what she saw.  His eyes mirrored the same regret, the same pain, the same desire that she felt.  "No," he said quietly, "I think we've had enough for today."  He removed the headgear and motioned for her to hand hers over.  She quickly removed it and passed it to him.

"I meant what I said, Pansy.  Really nice job today."  He paused, rolling his shoulder and rubbing the muscles.  It was all she could do not to stare at his hands - _oh Merlin, those hands_ \- as he massaged his arm.  "I'm surprised to see you here.  I know you've been a curse-breaker; why the change?"

Pansy felt the air leave her lungs but she quickly recovered.  "Oh, you know me," she replied with a smirk and a toss of her hair, "I got bored and needed to try something new.  But how did you know I was -"

"My brother is still at Gringotts, and he keeps up with the new lot every year.  I think he still misses it, although he'd never admit that in front of my sister-in-law."  He chuckled, and Pansy recalled sadly that it was the first time she'd heard him laugh in three years.  She scolded herself for thinking that Ron Weasley's laugh was a sound that she'd very much like to hear on a daily basis. _I have_ ** _got_** _to get out of here._

"So, can we go?  Since we're finished for the day?"

Ron paused for a moment, a confused look on his face, before he looked at his watch.  "Yeah, we're done."  Pansy nodded and walked to her locker to retrieve her wand.  She wanted to - no, she _needed_ to - get out of there as quickly as possible, before it became even more obvious that she wanted to... 

She felt Ron's hands on her shoulders.  Her eyes closed and her breath caught at his hot, lusty whisper in her ear.  "Come have a drink with me."

* * * * *

The sadness in her eyes was almost too much, and Ron felt the anger drain out of him. He realized that it wasn't Pansy he was upset with, it was himself.  _I shouldn't have left in such a rush that next morning.  I should have tried to owl her sooner.  I should have stayed in touch with her._   At the time, he'd tried to convince himself that night meant nothing to either of them, but deep down, he knew otherwise.  They both had suffered great emotional losses that day, and they'd ended up taking refuge in each other in the most primal and intimate way possible.  And afterwards... well, Ron knew that he'd done his best to avoid Pansy for weeks before finally trying to owl her to see if they could get together for dinner so that he could apologize, but by then, she was nowhere to be found.  A few months later, Ron learned through Bill that she was in Egypt, working as a curse-breaker for Gringotts, but rather than contact her, he decided to just let things lie.

"No, I think we've had enough for today."  He removed his headgear, motioning for her to do the same, and he was careful not to let their hands touch as she did so. 

_Damn, she still gets under my skin._   Even though Ron never intended for them to meet up again, he still dreamed about her.  He had long ago come to the realization that Pansy Parkinson was the best shag of his life - after Hermione, who ranked first, of course, since she _was_ _his_ _first_ \- and far better than any of the nameless, faceless women he'd slept with since or those women that he had and did care for, including Tonks.  For a while, he'd thought that his night with Pansy was a fluke, but now, seeing her again, he realized that none of those others ever made him _want_ the way Pansy had.  The way she still made him _want her_.

Ron rolled his shoulder and massaged his sore muscles.  "I meant what I said, Pansy.  Really nice job today."  He paused, wondering if it wouldn't just be better to make a quick get-away but allowing his curiosity about what she was doing there win out.  "I'm surprised to see you here.  I know you've been a curse-breaker; why the change?"

Pansy grinned and tossed her head, and Ron was reminded of her black hair spread over a crisp ivory pillowcase as she threw her head back and screamed his name.  "Oh, you know me.  I got bored and needed to try something new.  But how did you know I was -"

"My brother is still at Gringotts, and he keeps up with the new lot every year."  Ron chuckled.  "I think he still misses it, although he'd never admit that in front of my sister-in-law."  

He had hoped to lighten the mood, so he was slightly taken aback at her brisk, "So, can we go?  Since we're finished for the day?" as she straightened her shoulders stiffly, and he glanced at his watch.  

"Yeah, we're done."  She nodded and quickly headed to her locker.  As Ron watched her walk away, the urge to follow her overwhelmed him.  _You let her walk out of your life once; don't let her go again._   

He strode after her, placing his hands on her shoulders as she stood.  He leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Come have a drink with me."

Ron felt her shudder underneath his hands, and without thinking, he pulled her earlobe into his mouth, sucking harder at Pansy's almost inaudible gasp.  His hands slid down her arms, and he turned her around.  Their eyes met, and an instant later, their mouths followed in a feverish, needy, aching kiss.  Ron felt Pansy pulling him forward as he pressed against her. He groaned into her mouth as she grasped his arse and ground herself against him.

Their mouths separated when Pansy's head hit the wall.  "Oh hell, Weasley," she moaned as he thrust against her, and he pressed his face between her breasts.  He felt her fingernails sliding up his back as she lifted his shirt.  He moved away from her just long enough to remove his shirt and hers, and to yank her bra from her body.  His hands and mouth then returned, with delight, to her now naked breasts.  

_Fuck me_ , he thought, as he suckled one hard nipple and roughly pinched the other, remembering that was how she had liked it then, and still did, judging by the sounds she was making.

Ron was quickly losing all ability to think coherently, but before he was completely lost in the taste and smell and sounds of her, he pulled away, picked up her wand where she'd dropped it to the floor, and cast locking and silencing spells on the door.  He turned back to her with a grin, and she flashed him that smug look that he used to find infuriating but now he found incredibly sexy.

Pansy licked her lips, and Ron felt himself grow even harder if possible.  "I think I recall telling you that you wouldn't be taking me down again, Weasley.  But I never said I wouldn't go down willingly."  She dropped to her knees, and Ron groaned, praying that his legs wouldn't give out.  He watched as she divested him of his sweatpants and boxers, and his hands slid into her long, thick hair as she took him in her mouth.

_Sweet Merlin, holy fuck!_   He'd remembered how talented Pansy was in this department, but she was now even better, if that was possible, and before long, he pulled away, watching with amusement and lust as she teasingly ran her finger along her lips and pouted.  "What's wrong?  Didn't you like my going down on you?"

Ron laughed - _how long has it been since a woman genuinely made me laugh_ \- and dropped to his knees in front of her.  "No, but I seem to recall you threatening to _take_ _me down_ ," he said before attacking her neck and pulling her down over him.  "Okay, you win, Parkinson.  Do with me what you will."

Pansy flashed a wicked grin, and Ron was flooded with anticipation.  "Remember, the bigger they are, the harder they... are," she said naughtily, sliding her hands around him and taking him in her mouth again.  Ron groaned, "Fuck, Parkinson...  I... _hell... Pansy..._ I want to be inside you."

She mumbled something around him, and Ron closed his eyes.  Pansy apparently had something else in mind, and he knew from experience that he wouldn't have any trouble getting it up again for her, so he decided to just let her have him however she would take him.

But just as he was about to come, she released him.  He opened his eyes to find Pansy straddling his waist.  She leaned over and kissed him tenderly at first, the kiss languid but even more passionate.  Ron felt her body relax as he caressed her back, his hands finding her hips, and she slowly, almost teasingly so, eased herself down around him.

It was _everything_ he remembered and _nothing_ like what he'd imagined it would be if he was given the chance to be with her again.  She was _bloody incredible_ as she moved over him - her eyes locked on his, her mouth open, lusty words spilling from her swollen red lips, her breasts swaying as she rocked, her hands in her hair, sliding down her body, scratching his chest - and Ron never wanted it to end.   As much as he'd enjoyed fucking Pansy before, she was even better now, more mature, more confident.  _And we could be good together._   Gone was her guilt over having broken up with Malfoy as he was being sent off to Azkaban, as was Ron's self-doubt about how he could've done things differently with Hermione.  They'd found something in each other all those years ago, something that they'd both wanted but had been unable to grasp, that they'd both wanted to deny but had been unable to let go of.  And now... now it was time to admit that he _wanted_ Pansy Parkinson, and this time, he wasn't going to walk out of her life or let her flee from his.

She began moving faster, and he moved his hands from her hips to her breasts.  "Yes," she moaned, leaning forward, "Please..."  Ron pressed them together and began moving between them, sucking and biting, feeling her movements grow faster and more erratic with each brush of his tongue.  He knew he was close - _she is so fucking amazing_ \- when she screamed, "Fuck me harder, Weasley - that's it - ooohhhhh yes, Ron!"  He felt her clenching like a vise around him as she came, and he was unable to stop himself from following.

Pansy collapsed over his chest, her breathing labored, her lips finding his.  "That was..." she shook her head, apparently at a loss, as she brushed a lock of his hair from his forehead and looked him dead in the eye.

Ron chuckled as he wrapped his arms even tighter around her.  "Damn, Parkinson.  You can take me down anytime.  But maybe you should rethink your position on letting me do the same."

She laughed, pressing her lips against his and rolling over to her back, pulling him along to settle between her thighs, already hard and ready for her again.  She quirked an eyebrow and seductively licked her lips as she grabbed his arse and moved against him.  "You're on."


End file.
